


Her Majesty

by cherrytruck



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Chess Metaphors, F/M, Flirting, I wrote this back when SH was a decent show, in this fic they apparently watch father ted, old fic is old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-27 23:51:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10057559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrytruck/pseuds/cherrytruck
Summary: When Abbie returns to the real world, she helps herself adjust by giving Crane the needy company he has missed out on. But despite his presence, she still struggles to truly settle down.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Live On](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6706030) by [oudeteron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oudeteron/pseuds/oudeteron). 



> I wrote this back in 2016 but it's been sitting in the attic since I didn't feel like posting it right after the disastrous S3 finale...but if there are still Abbie x Ichabod fans out there then I want to at least share this with them.
> 
> Sorry if there are errors - I might go back and edit this fic later on if there are any. Can't be as bad as S4's writing though (ooooooh! siq burn)

It was good being able to return to normality; the fact that she could finally feel time moving forward, the feeling of tiredness, the sleep deprivation and all these small aches and pains around her limbs – all of these felt like a strange additional welcome back to Abbie after she had spent so long feeling her physical body go unchallenged even if she felt her mind deteriorating.

One of those amusing pains was that of Crane’s constant need of her attention, seeing how there seemed to be nothing productive he could occupy himself with, not when she was away and even less so now that she was back with him. He would always ask if she felt like watching something, like catch up on a series they had been missing out on because Crane had refused to watch anything if Abbie wasn’t there with him.

Right now, they had settled to spend the time playing a game of chess. Abbie knew that Crane found the board game quite soothing. It was one of the few moments where she saw Crane remain silent for more than five seconds, looking seemingly focussed – though whether he really could concentrate or his mind was buzzing everywhere in silence, she couldn’t really tell.

“You have improved your tactics very much, Lieutenant.” Crane was still stuck thinking of his next move. Usually he was the kind of player not to spend too long thinking during the game, though their recent games had gotten him rather stumped.

“Take your time, slow boy.” Abbie gave a soft kick under the table and chuckled at herself. “Say, what even happened to that book you said you were gonna write? You had all this time to work on it and now here you are making such a huge fuss over whether Bishop Brennan should move east or west rather than the thing you promised you’d be done by since the past…two months?”

“Well, it’s not exactly easy keeping your mind at focus when your better half is not with you." Crane still held onto his bishop, continuing to twiddle with it and then rolling it back and forth between his fingers and thumb.  “And now that you are here…I feel it would not be wise to paradoxically neglect your presence by instead spending time on something that would divert my attention away from you. I would rather spend these moments together with the one person who gives me the utmost serenity and pleasure.”

“By continuing to massage that boyfriend of yours?” Abbie laughed again, amused by Crane’s sigh of disappointment that she responded to his heartfelt speech with a joke like that.

After much delay he finally moved over his bishop – with exactly the kind of move Abbie had anticipated.

“I knew that was coming,” she said smugly as she instantly moved her queen towards an opening that Crane had exposed upon his last move. “Checkmate.”

“W-what?” Crane blinked and shook his head, looking at the chessboard as if staring at Abbie’s queen more intensely would somehow help him analyse his defeat. “This is…by God! I did not…y-you…”

“I spent forever in the catacombs with nothing but coming up with every possible chess game in existence in the universe to keep myself from going crazy.” She meant to say it as a joke, but the thought of herself being trapped and finally losing her patience when she realized she had literally ran out of possibilities for new chess games made her heart sink for a moment. From the way Crane had now fixed his eyes on her rather than the game, he could probably tell her joke ended up hitting a sensitive spot within herself. “Well, anyway. Good game.”

“I am sorry to have reminded you of your ordeal,” Crane said solemnly. “It’s just…”

“It’s not your fault, Crane. I won’t use my catacomb sob story to stop you from doing something you enjoy. I meant it in good fun. You can never beat me in chess ever again is all I'm saying,” Abbie managed to joke about to lighten the mood again.

“You truly are the queen of chess now. A fitting title for someone with such strength and wit, as well as patience.” Crane continued to compliment Abbie as she let out a shy blush, tilting her face down in modesty. “As you know, the queen is not a piece that is able to move right away at the start of the game. She must wait until the moment is optimal, where if she makes the right move, she could become fierce and show her strength at the fear of her enemies.”

“That's real cute. So does this make you the King?”

Crane chuckled and picked up his King piece. “Well, if you are willing to give me so much credit…”

“Oh it's not credit. I mean, I'm just saying the king is kind of slow like you are and he does nothing but sit around all day, you know?” She really missed talking her kicks on Crane, teasing him with these jokes that would normally be used to talk down on people, but to Crane it was playful talk that marked the sign of how close they were to be able to get away with such banter. Well, at least on her end - Crane never seemed to retaliate against her, either because his old chivalrous ways couldn’t be beat, or perhaps he couldn’t ever bring himself to talk down on her even as a joke.

“That’s most frank of you, Lieutenant, and rather harsh...”  Crane looked down again in sadness, as if being defeated yet again wasn’t already enough for him to remind him he couldn’t win at anything when it came to Abbie.

Feeling some pity, Abbie felt it could be nice to lighten up the mood more. “Well Crane, if it makes you feel better,” she said as she got up and put her hand on his shoulder, “There’s some quote that goes something like this: True love is like a game of chess, because the Queen should always be willing to sacrifice herself for the King.”

“That is absolute blasphemy!” Crane never reacted in amusement even if it was completely obviously that Abbie was only messing with him. “Whoever even made such a nonsensical statement? What good is a relationship if it relies on the man to count on his partner to be so self-sacrificing while he never contributes to anything? I understand the mechanics of chess but this is no excuse to be using board game rules to dictate others on what kind of dynamic their relationship takes! I cannot believe that despite the privilege and power that these men hold, they still think it is their place to tell women that they must put their lives on the line should the man find himself in trouble due to a predicament by his own hand!”

Abbie laughed once Crane was done with his rambles. “How do you know if it was a man who made that quote? Anyway, you know technically I already did something like that. I mean, you remember I walked into that evil tree elevator thing because if I didn’t then the rest of you guys would go down so like...I suppose as much as we both agree with your sentiment, we’re a bit guilty of that dynamic, aren’t we? Especially since it’s not the first time I put my life on the line for you, Big King.”

“Please,” Crane said, now more quiet but still not seeming to get the humour. “Don’t you ever do such a thing again. To be separated from you was the closest to death I felt, and I am not sure if I could survive an ordeal like that again. Please…”

“...sorry, Crane.” Now she was the one who was making Crane feel unsettled again, and she felt somewhat bad for it. “Well hey, I’m here now and I’m not going inside anymore trees anytime soon. And even that didn’t stop me, so we’re good, okay?”

“You’re right.” Crane nodded. “You are very strong and it takes more than a few pawns to take down a queen.”

~

Abbie couldn’t sleep that night, having constant flashbacks to her losing her mind back in the catacombs where time remained still. Sadly even if she was back in the normal - well, more like current - world, there were times where it felt like she was back in that dreaded place, stuck between life and death, unable to sleep, numb yet agitated at the same time.

Often it was thinking of the symbol that helped her get back into ease and help her sleep, but the symbol wasn’t coming into her dreams this time, and she started to feel herself becoming weak without it. She needed it, right now. It was the only thing that continued to push her forward and allow her to feel any kind of positive emotion in life again.

Feeling lost without her saviour, Abbie lashed out against herself and got out of bed. It was then that the symbol was glowing in front of her, and immediately she felt her heart slow down to a regular beat, so calm and at ease.

“You were there for me the whole time...” Abbie said in her mesmerized state. Then she saw the symbol begin to fade away, as if it was floating away outside of the room and back downstairs. “N-no...don’t leave me, come back! I need you…”

Abbie chased the symbol down, catching glimpses of it before it turned around the corners of the hallways where it left only a trace of light. She almost tripped over the stairs as she kept trying to chase it. When the symbol finally seemed to stop moving, it seemed to settle down at an odd spot - just right there at the kitchen. What was it trying to say to her?

Before she could try and talk to it again, the illusion of the symbol vanished the moment someone else walked through it - a very familiar figure.

“Crane? What are you doing here up at this time of the night?”

“I...could ask you the same thing,” he responded as if being caught doing something naughty, though he helpfully switched on the light revealing himself in his night robe and a carton of milk in his hands. “Um...I apologize for this intrusion of your storage of foods and drinks at such an uncivil hour. It’s just...I felt myself unable to sleep, and so I figured perhaps a glass of warm milk could help me out in resuming my circadian rhythm back to its normal state, or at least the closest it can be to one.”

“Well, you can make milk for two then.” Abbie yawned, actually starting to feel relaxed enough to remember what it was like to be be tired again, sitting herself down on the table while Crane heated up the milk. When he was done, he returned with two mugs, giving Abbie the one with her favourite design with the owls.

“I added a very small amount of sugar to yours as I know you like your milk sweet.” Crane sat next to her and took a sip of his own mug. “I’m terribly sorry to see that you too find yourself restless at this night.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Abbie said. “I guess I’m still used to going back to a regular sleep pattern. What about you though, Crane? Normally you sleep like a baby.”

“Well…” Crane looked down. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Crane, that is so bait. For someone who was trusted with all these secret missions you have such a bad poker face.”

“Poker face? What, pray tell, is that phrased supposed to indicate?”

“It means a face where you can hide your expression. And you aren’t very good at hiding the fact that you’re lying to me,” Abbie said playfully. “Bad dream?”

“You read me so well as ever.” Crane put down his cup and drew himself closer towards Abbie. “You know I have not adapted well to being separated from you, and the prospect of losing you continues to haunt me. I keep having...nightmares of you.”

Abbie felt herself raising an eyebrow. “You dream of me? Well, I’m very sorry to intrude your sleep like that.”

“I don’t mean it in that way, and there’s no need to be so self-depreciating,” Crane said, not letting Abbie’s teasing get through to him this time. “They are dreams where you are in danger and I find my heart racing even after I have woken up. It’s not the first time it has happened. Before it used to be flashbacks of moments where you were in danger, but now I am beginning to see new visions that have never occurred before. I see you telling me you no longer need to live as your duty is complete, and that you do not wish to have my company any longer...I have seen you throw yourself in front of monsters I did not even existed. I have dreamt of you saying your goodbyes and then finding myself all alone. I keep telling myself these are just nightmares, but…”

“Crane…” Abbie patted him in the back. “I’m here, ok? You know me. I’m quite a tough one if I’ve lived through some giant white demon man’s crib, a literal backwards time period where even you were a very tiny bit racist…” Abbie laughed. “You said it yourself. It’ll take more than a few pawns to take down this queen.”

“But still. The king would always be in a constant worry that his queen is out there in the dangerous field while he sits there in safety and comfort. It isn’t right…”

“Oh? Are you saying I’m YOUR queen now, then?”

“I-I, well...you understand the metaphor behind what I mean.” Abbie wondered if she could see Crane blushing, though it was a little too dark to tell. Crane seemed to look as if he was about to grab onto her hand, but something held him back. “What I mean is, it is not fair that you must bear the burden of the world. It is supposed to be shared between us. After all, we are two witnesses.”

“That we are. And as long as that’s the case, we’ll always find each other one way or another.” Abbie sipped onto the milk, which had cooled down enough not to burn her tongue. “Mmm...this is good.”

“I’m very glad, Abbie.” Crane took a sip from his own as well. “So, how about you? Do you wish to also ramble away as the night eats off our resting hour?”

Abbie blinked. “Huh?”

Crane chuckled. “My poor sleepy Lieutenant. I was asking if you wished to ramble about anything on your mind that was preventing you from sleeping.”

Abbie thought about it - she had no trouble sleeping as long as the symbol was with her. But there was no way she could tell anyone, not even Crane, about how much comfort she found with it. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. It was something she just couldn’t explain away.

“Oh...ah, uh. Yeah.” Abbie wiped her eyes, becoming strangely more tired. “Nah, it’s just that at the catacombs I was always awake so it’s been really strange adjusting back to sleep. I don’t even remember how to dream anymore, really.”

“Of course. It must be doing all kinds of things to mess with your routine." Crane then began to go on one of his usual long stories again. “Well, I remember back one time where I had to go on a mission only having the opportunity to sleep with an hour before resuming back. It was as if I might as well not sleep at all. I was accompanied by the fine Betsy Ross - we were travelling for many days straight and we took it in turns to pick which hour to sleep, ensuring neither of us would both fall asleep on the job at the same time, as we tried to move as efficiently as possible, but it didn’t prove to be such a good idea because it turned out one night we both fell asleep on each other, and-...”

The somewhat long-winded story, and yet the soothing voice of Crane was all that was needed to make Abbie feel sleepy enough for her head to end up on his shoulder, too sleepy to move it anywhere else.

If he wanted her to get back to bed, he’d have to carry her back up.


End file.
